


Sponges and Little Boys

by doctorwhoover



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BAMF Pepper Potts, F/M, Gen, Italian Tony Stark, NO ANGST IN THIS HOUSEHOLD, One Big Happy Family, Pepper Potts Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Has a Family, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Swearing, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, only love and fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:14:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25207531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorwhoover/pseuds/doctorwhoover
Summary: Tony swears a shit-ton, and obviously his son Peter hears and remembers every single one.
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 214





	Sponges and Little Boys

**Author's Note:**

> y'all... this has taken me several months to write. I had this idea ages ago, and fell in love with it, but between things i never actually finished writing it. anyways, i hope you guys enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing!
> 
> tw: swearing
> 
> (the translations are at the end!)

He was almost there. So, so close to finally completing the prototype for his project. All he had to do was join these two fuses and-

“ _Cazzoooo_ ,” cursed Tony, hurriedly extinguishing the small fire before the smoke detectors went off. A few seconds passed without their insufferable wailing and he heaved a sigh of relief. Hopefully, Pepper wouldn’t notice yet more bits of charred metal in the recycling bin.

“Papà, what does that word you just said mean?” inquired a small voice to his left. He looked down to find two big brown eyes staring right back at him.

“Peter! When did you get in? You know you have to let me know before you come into the lab,” exclaimed Tony. Upon seeing Peter’s crestfallen face, he added hastily, “I just don’t want you to get hurt, baby boy. You’re always welcome, you just have to ask me first, ok?” A solemn nod from the child. “Oh, and please, please, _please_ don’t tell your mother about the fire.”

Peter giggled. “It’s the – one, two, three, four – fourst one this week!” he said, counting on chubby fingers.

Tony groaned. “Yes, I know it’s the fourth one this week. It’s just that you keep coming in and-” he tickled Peter on his tummy, “distracting me with your adorableness.”

Peter squealed and ran off before his father could tickle him any longer. Tony sighed with faux resignation, put down the screwdriver, and stood up straight. His project would have to wait.

“The tickle monster is going to catch you!” he growled, and set off chasing his son with waggling fingers. They ran down several long halls before he caught up to the five-year-old, who, impossibly, seemed to have more energy than a lightning bolt. As soon as he reached Peter, he scooped him up and planted a big fat kiss on his soft brown hair. The little boy squirmed out of his grasp and stumbled away again, shrieking with laughter. Tony didn’t hesitate before jogging after him, his whole face illuminated by a goofy grin.




The traffic surrounded them in a buzz of honking horns and rumbling engines. It had been Pepper’s idea to take the weekend off and drive down to the beach for a few days, but at this rate, they weren’t going anywhere. They might as well have been stood still.

Pepper was playing some sort of game with Peter involving several complicated rules which included shouting random words as loud as they could for no apparent reason. Tony was lost in thought, mind still on his project, oblivious to the movements of the drivers around him. The light turned green, and the line of cars inched slowly forward. He came back to the present with a start as Pep nudged him, indicating the advancing cars.

Tony jerked the steering wheel as another car cut in front of him. “ _Vafanculo_ ,” he muttered under his breath, watching the car speed off. Pepper shot him a sharp look from the passenger seat.

“ _Amore, sai che non devi dire parolaccie davanti al nostro figlio_ ,” she scolded him in Italian, her American accent twisting the words. “Lui è…” she searched for the word in Italian, finally switching to English when she couldn’t find it. “He’s very impressionable. He’ll remember everything you say.”

“Huh? Who is what?” piped up Peter from the back seat.

“Mommy was saying that you’re impressionable. You… you’re like a sponge: you soak up everything you see and hear,” replied Tony distractedly. He was focused on the suddenly accelerating pace of the swarm of vehicles.

“Hey! I’m not a sponge, I’m a little boy!” exclaimed Peter indignantly. His features had contorted into an exaggerated pout.

Both of his parents laughed before reassuring him that no, he was not actually a sponge, and that yes, he was indeed their favourite little boy in the whole wide world. He then denied certain claims that he needed to sleep, insisting that he was wide awake, before promptly dozing off as soon as the car reached the motorway.

Tony released a breath he didn’t even know he had been holding as they drove away from the city. Pepper rubbed his arm affectionately.

“See? I told you we all needed a break. Especially you, from that super-secret project you’ve been working on day and night,” she said.

“I don’t know how I survived all those years without you worrying and looking after me,” he replied with a chuckle, before relaxing into the monotony of driving.




Peter seemed to adore the beach. His favourite game was to run away from the waves before they could touch him with their foam, then sprinting right back into the water to do it all over again. His shrieks and squeals of joy could be heard for miles around, and his two parents smiled fondly at him when presented with an endless array of rocks, shells, and bits of smooth glass.

It was peaceful in the shade of the umbrella, and Tony surprised himself by falling asleep for a solid two hours without a single nightmare. There was something about the regular lapping of the waves and the humid, salty air that made him forget all his worries. That, and the fact that he knew Happy would be barring the only entrance to the beach, granting them some peace.

“Papà, Papà, come play with me in the water!” demanded Peter. Tony cracked open an eye at the pure command in that voice. Maybe they _were_ spoiling him a bit too much. But who could say no to such huge, puppy dog eyes?

“Alright, alright I’m coming. But let’s both put some more sunscreen on first, ok?” conceded Tony. “Trust me, you _really_ don’t want to get burnt. It hurts like hell.”

Peter huffed impatiently but stood still as Tony spread cream over his shoulders and face. As soon as his father was done, however, he snatched the bottle from his grasp and smeared a handful of thick sunscreen right on the man’s face. Tony spluttered, temporarily blinded by the globs of cream over his eyes.

“Oh, you’ve done it now,” yelled Tony, promptly lifting Peter over his head, running all the way into the water and throwing him in – gently, of course, because Tony wouldn’t bear the thought of him accidentally hurting his son.

A second later, a small head bearing a cheeky grin resurfaced, and started furiously splashing him with as much force as a six-year-old could muster (in other words, not very much). They spent the next half hour engaged in an extremely serious splashing competition. They even tried to splash Pepper, who had joined them from the shade of the umbrella. They soon learnt their mistake as a veritable tsunami of water barrelled their way in retaliation. It was unclear who won in the end, but to be honest, winning was the last thing on Tony’s mind.

It was one of the best days he had had in God knows how long.




They returned to the hotel sun-browned and smiling, exhausted from an entire day on the beach.

“Can we go to the beach every weekend?” asked Peter. His eyes were as imploring as they come.

Pepper chuckled, and replied, “Honey, unfortunately your dad and I both have to work most weekends, or at least be there to make sure everyone else knows what they have to work on.” His face fell. “But I promise that we’ll come as often as we can,” she promised.

Meanwhile, Tony was searching frantically through the bag he had packed the night before. Was it possible that he had forgotten his phone? How in the world could he have forgotten his phone? Nobody ever forgets their phone!

“ _Porca miseria_ ,” he murmured softly to himself. Pepper kicked him, none too discreetly.

Peter giggled and repeated the swear to himself. Tony had the decency to look ashamed.

“Uhh kiddo? I need you to forget that word please. Right now.”

“Why? It’s such a funny word! Porkha meeseria,” he said again, and jumped onto the bed.

“Pete, your daddy was being very silly when he said it, and he really shouldn’t have. Do you really want to be silly like your dad?” intervened Pepper.

“No! Papà is _too_ silly sometimes.” An innocent smile. “I love you Papà!” he said, and ran headfirst into Tony’s midriff in guise of a hug. He let out an _oof_ , before hugging him back.

“Now, am I too silly to go buy you all dinner?” he said.

“Yes, you are, because this trip is _my_ treat to _you_ , therefore all expenses are covered by me. Shall we?” Pepper’s eyes twinkled with mirth as she offered one arm dramatically to Tony, and the other to Peter.

“I’m sooo hungry. I can’t wait to eat. Where are we going? What food will there be? …”

And it was then, arm in arm with Pepper and with Peter babbling excitingly beside him, that Tony realized just how much he needed a break with his family.




But unfortunately, time can pass by very quickly when you’re with loved ones. Tony found himself back in New York, knee-deep in work, after what seemed like an unfairly short four days.

It was a Wednesday (God, Wednesdays were the worst. It felt like everyone took advantage of Wednesdays to give him more work than humanly possible) and Tony had decided to take a break from his mind-numbing papers. And he knew the perfect distraction.

“Papà!” squealed Peter as soon as he saw his father standing in the doorway.

Tony swooped him into a hug. “ _Ciao Tesoro, cosa stai facendo_?” he asked.

“I have some spelling homework. It’s so booooring,” moaned the boy.

“Ugh, I know, spelling is very boring, I agree. Hey, how about we make a fun quiz out of it? That’ll make it more interesting. And we can have chocolate as a prize once we’re done!”

“Chocolate! Ok, I’ll do it.” Peter’s eyes glinted at the promise of candy.

“Let’s see here,” murmured Tony, pulling the paper towards him. “Oof, ‘ie’ words. Those are tough ones. Alright, contestant number one, are you ready?” he said, putting on his best TV presenter voice. “Once you get two words right, you get – drumroll please – a piece of chocolate! Let’s begin. Our first word iiiiis: believe!”

Twenty minutes and two bars of chocolate later, Tony and Peter were finally done with the homework.

“I think it’s safe to say that we are the spelling _champions_ now. Don’t you agree?” said Tony.

“Yeah!” agreed Peter with an infectious enthusiasm. They stared at the empty chocolate wrappers. “Uhh Papà? Aren’t those Mommy’s special chocolate bars? The fancy ones she never shares?”

“ _Merda, hai raggione_ \- uhh, I mean, you’re right yeah,” he replied. “They’re her favourites – we should probably buy her some more before she realises. She works so hard; she definitely deserves her special chocolate. Come with me to the store?”

Peter nodded vigorously and ran to put his shoes on.




“Pep, my project – I’ve finally finished! It’s done!”

Pepper looked up from her book. Tony was standing in front of her, covered in oil and grease, eyes ringed with fatigue but sparkling with pride.

“Yay!” Her smile was genuine and bright. “I know hard you’ve been working on it. This is such a big accomplishment!” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Now can you finally tell us what, exactly, it is?”

“Is it finished, is it finished?” squealed Peter, who came barrelling in from his room. “Can I see? You said it was a super cool science-y thing. I _love_ super cool science-y things!”

“Peter! You’re supposed to be asleep!” chided Tony. His son pouted. “But… I’m sure we can make an exception, just this once.” Pepper nodded, still smiling warmly. Tony chuckled, before enveloping them into a hug. “I can show you right now, if you want. Then you have to go to sleep, ok?”

As Tony showed them into the lab, he felt a mix of apprehension and excitement. He hadn’t told _anyone_ of this project, not even Rhodey, and it felt strange to finally expose it. He knew his family would be nothing but encouraging, yet he still felt a lingering desire to keep it a secret. What if it turned out to be useless? What if it was a waste of time? What if someone else had already made it?

“Hey.” Pepper nudged him softly. “I know that look. Stop doubting yourself, ok? Nothing you make could ever be bad in my eyes.”

He smiled back gratefully. “Are you guys ready to see a super cool science-y thing?”

“Yeah!” exclaimed Peter.

“I present to you… my arc-reactor!” Both mother and son oohed and aahed appropriately as he flourished his hands towards the glowing, blue, hand-sized gadget. “All of my previous arc-reactor prototypes were absolutely huge – they took up whole buildings.” Peter was approaching it curiously. He reached out a hand. “So, I made a smaller one. It can-” Tony was interrupted by a crash as the small boy tripped, screeched, and fell right into the table where it was placed, knocking it off and onto the floor, where it smashed into hundreds of tiny pieces.

His eyes widened, startled, and he shouted, “ _CAZZOVAFANCULOPORCAMISERIAMERDA_ ” before starting to cry loudly.

Both Pepper and Tony rushed to him immediately. Their verbal concerns for his well-being were drowned by Peter’s sobs. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry! I broke Papà’s invention! I ruined everything he did!” he wailed, and kicked his parents away. “I don’t deserve hugs,” he said, tears streaming down his face. Pepper met Tony’s eyes above their son’s head. Would he even hear any attempts they made at comforting him?

Then a chuckle escaped Tony. And soon he was laughing loudly, and sliding down to the floor next to Peter. “Oh honey,” he tried to hold back his laughter, “that was just a model! The real one is in that box over there – over on that table – to make sure nothing like what just happened damages it. That was a hell of a swear though Pete,” he grinned. Then looked stern. “I’m more worried about you, though. Are you hurt? Did you cut yourself on the sharp bits?”

Peter’s tear-stained face turned towards him hopefully. “I- I didn’t break it? I didn’t ruin all your work?” he asked tentatively.

“No baby, everything’s fine.”

“What _I_ want to know is where Peter learnt all those swear words,” said Pepper accusingly, staring at her husband. “That was a very impressive curse you let out, Petey.”

Tony looked away sheepishly. “Uhhh…”

“I learnt it from Papà!” their son replied proudly. “I wanted to be just like him!”

“Well, honey, that’s really very sweet of you, but I need you to promise not to say any of those words ever again. They’re… very rude and they can be quite harmful sometimes. You might hurt somebody if you use them.”

“Exactly,” confirmed Pepper. “Of course, I love that you want to be like your dad-”

“I want to be like you too, Mommy!” interrupted Peter.

“That’s-” she a smile broke out on her face, “that’s a beautiful thing to say Petey, and I really appreciate it, but your dad is right. These are words that can upset people, so it’s best if you try to forget them, ok?”

“Ok Mommy and Papà.” At some point during this exchange, Pepper had joined them on the dirty, oil-stained floor, and was hugging them both at the same time. “I love you,” said Peter, snuggling into his parents’ arms.

“We love you too,” they both replied.

“God, imagine if that had been the real arc-reactor,” muttered Tony with a nervous chuckle after a few minutes.

“Too soon, _Amore_ , too soon,” hushed Pepper into his hair, and continued to hold her family tight.

**Author's Note:**

> Some of these translations aren’t completely literal, but more the actual meaning of the words:
> 
>  _Cazzoooo_ = fuckkkk  
>  _Vafanculo_ = fuck you  
>  _Amore, sai che non devi dire parolaccie davanti al nostro figlio_ = Love, you know that you shouldn’t say bad words in front of our son  
>  _Porca miseria_ = bloody hell  
>  _Ciao Tesoro, cosa stai facendo?_ = Hey treasure, what are you doing?  
>  _Merda, hai raggione_ = Shit, you’re right  
>  _Amore_ = love
> 
> as always, feedback is appreciated and comments make me cry tears of joy


End file.
